In general, I accept the notion that dance is a performance art, and if it is not for someone else who is in the room, it is a film. So the idea of online dance performances that are neither documents nor films is conceptually alarming to me to say the least. The most terrifying thing, however, about watching a performance online was realizing that one could skip the boring parts.
Confession: I have been bored before in a (live, in- person) performance (I assume I was in some way part of the problem), but, in that context, I had no thought other than to remain at least physically present. It is part of the social context I uphold in the theatre.
But, I was startled to realize that, when no one can see HOW one interacts with the performance, one becomes free to respond more authentically. For example, no one knows if one skips ahead. No one knows if one does something else at the same time. No one knows whether one is really paying attention.
This realization was deeply unsettling for me. It challenges my very notion of what I seek for performance to be: a communication entered into with integrity by both parties. The assumption that I can trust my audience to attend in good faith is fundamental to my practice as a performer/creator.
I am still processing what it means that one's engagement can be so different in the "solitary" context of attending virtually.
In general, I accept the notion that dance is a performance art, and if it is not for someone else who is in the room, it is a film. So the idea of online dance performances that are neither documents nor films is conceptually alarming to me to say the least. The most terrifying thing, however, about watching a performance online was realizing that one could skip the boring parts.
Confession: I have been bored before in a (live, in- person) performance (I assume I was in some way part of the problem), but, in that context, I had no thought other than to remain at least physically present. It is part of the social context I uphold in the theatre.
But, I was startled to realize that, when no one can see HOW one interacts with the performance, one becomes free to respond more authentically. For example, no one knows if one skips ahead. No one knows if one does something else at the same time. No one knows whether one is really paying attention.
This realization was deeply unsettling for me. It challenges my very notion of what I seek for performance to be: a communication entered into with integrity by both parties. The assumption that I can trust my audience to attend in good faith is fundamental to my practice as a performer/creator.
I am still processing what it means that one's engagement can be so different in the "solitary" context of attending virtually.